


Across the Universe

by Wynn



Category: Captain America (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: But this is ignored for banter and romance, Darcy Lewis is Peter Quill's cousin, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Peter Quill is a Cap and Commando fanboy, Romance, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 05:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5116736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wynn/pseuds/Wynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the portal opened up before Darcy, she’d been looking at Bucky, who lounged beside her on the grounds outside the new Avengers complex, and thinking to herself that life, finally, was good. She got paid now, Darcy still with Jane but Jane now with the Avengers and thus pulling in Tony Stark bank. Her careful matchmaking with Wanda and the Vision had paid off as well with Vision finally asking Wanda out. And Darcy had her own fuzzy feelings to nurse, her heart fluttering fast and hard for the epically hot man beside her.</p><p>So, naturally, the universe had to open up and swallow her whole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Across the Universe

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Wintershock Firsts challenge at MCU Wintershock on Tumblr: First time in Asgard/outer space. This got away from me, as is usually the case, and it may be expanded on as I enjoyed mixing the various MCU characters.
> 
> I, of course, do not own the Marvel characters. I'm just playing around with them for non-profit, entertainment purposes only.

When the portal opened up before Darcy, she’d been looking at Bucky, who lounged beside her on the grounds outside the new Avengers complex, and thinking to herself that life, finally, was good. She got paid now, Darcy still with Jane but Jane now with the Avengers and thus pulling in Tony Stark bank. And Darcy had finally made it through Natasha’s demonic training regimen _without_ collapsing into a sweaty, crying heap ten minutes in. Her careful matchmaking with Wanda and the Vision had paid off as well with Vision finally asking Wanda out, and Darcy had her own fuzzy feelings to nurse, her heart fluttering fast and hard for the epically hot man beside her.

So, naturally, the universe had to open up and swallow her whole.

“Oh, shit!”

“Darcy!”

She heard Bucky cry out for her, felt his hand close around hers as she tumbled into the portal. This ride rocked her less than her one and only trip to Asgard, that passage on the Bifrost akin to a drunken rollercoaster on its last epic ride straight down to hell, but this one blinded more, her entire vision whiting out as she passed from one world into the next. The hard planes of the deck outside the Avengers complex gave way to squishy ground; the air smelled different too, more metallic than the pine-fresh scent of upstate New York. 

Darcy straightened, thankful for the feel of Bucky’s hand still clasped around hers, yet when she opened her eyes, she didn’t see him standing beside her as before. 

Instead, she saw a giant, blinking tree.

“What the hell?”

“I am Groot,” the tree said as it leaned down toward her.

“Uh…”

Darcy felt Bucky tug on her arm as he tried to pull her away from the tree, but a voice to their right made them both freeze.

“Great job, Quill. Instead of your dumb spell getting us to Earth like you _promised_ , all you’ve managed to do is make two more bozos for Thanos to kill. Fantastic.”

The rest of the light finally faded, allowing Darcy to see where she and Bucky currently were. She’d say they might still be on Earth given the blue sky and green plants surrounding them, but the buildings she spotted in the distance clearly read alien, constructed at impossible angles and remarkable curves that avant-garde architecture on Earth was just beginning to emulate. And it wasn’t the alien she knew from Asgard either, or from anything that Thor had told her about the realms he had visited, which caused a cold dollop of dread to swoop through her. 

The figures arrayed before her sent another dollop careening through her gut. Along with the blinking, talking tree, she spotted a cranky bipedal raccoon, the source of the prior bitter censure, as well as two, _two_ , two different green people who glared at her and Bucky. Beside them stood a dude in a long red coat that looked like he could be from Earth. He didn’t glare at Darcy or at Bucky like the green people did, but at the scowling raccoon.

“It’s not my fault, Rocket. I did exactly what the geomancer said. This was supposed to bring us home.”

The raccoon—Rocket— crossed his tiny arms across his tiny chest. “Well, it didn’t. Just like I said it wouldn’t. But did anybody listen to Rocket?”

“No,” the green man said without taking his eyes off Bucky. “We rarely do.”

Rocket turned to glare at the man. He reached behind him as he did, for his weapon, making both Bucky and the green woman tense. The woman stepped between Rocket and the green man and held out a hand toward each of them.

“Calm down,” she said. “Fighting won’t help anything.”

Rocket directed his glare at her. “No. But it’ll help me feel better.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at him. “Not if I slice your head off afterward, it won’t.”

Both Darcy and the man in the red coat moved then, or Darcy tried to, Bucky again pulling her back toward him.

“Whoa,” she said, looking at the woman, “let’s just—”

“—calm the fuck down,” the man added, casting his glance at Rocket.

Though Bucky succeeded in pulling Darcy behind him, she managed to see the strange look the woman cast her. She ignored it, turning instead to the rapidly disintegrating standoff between the man— Quill, according to the angry raccoon— and— 

Darcy gasped and looked back at the man. “Your name is Quill?”

The man looked at her, wary. “Yeah.”

Darcy tried to step out from behind Bucky then, but he blocked her, neatly shifting in front of her to keep himself between her and the team. She considered pushing, but she didn’t want or need to add to his stress level by instigating a fight with her, so she settled instead for peering at Quill from around Bucky’s arm. 

“Do you know a Meredith Quill?”

The man’s eyes widened. The green woman peered at Darcy again, suspicion now in her gaze.

“What?” Quill said, his voice tight.

“Meredith Quill,” Darcy repeated. “She was my—”

“Don’t.”

Bucky held up his hand with his quiet command, not toward Quill but at her. Darcy stopped. She understood Bucky’s misgiving. Being sucked through a portal would make anyone anxious, but especially him given his history with Hydra. He greeted anything new, especially people, with misgiving. It had taken Bucky more than a month to relax around her, more so for the rest of the team when Steve and Sam had brought him in. Darcy tried to look at him now, but he kept his eyes firmly fixed on the five before them. She lifted her hand instead and placed it on his back, trying for comfort in the gesture. This was still new, touching him, being as free with him as she was with others in companionable affection. 

Of course, with the others, she didn’t have to worry about it becoming _more_ than companionable affection, of freaking him out with her epically ridiculous and unfortunately intensifying crush. 

“We have to figure out what’s going on,” she said now, keeping her voice low.

Bucky shook his head though he lowered his hand. “Not by telling them stuff about you.”

“How else are we going to figure out what’s going on?”

She heard the plates in his metal arm shift. “I got a few ideas.”

Darcy dug her fingers into his shirt and tried to pull him back. Bucky, of course, did not move at all. Damn super soldier strength. Sighing, she settled for her words instead. “Okay, say that you do. Say you take out the huge green dude first. That lady looks fierce as shit, the raccoon has a gun almost as big as he is, and who knows about the tree. If you die…” She left the implication hanging, not needing to push the point, Bucky far smarter than most gave him credit for. If he died, she’d be out here alone, and she, too, would surely die, either at their hands or someone else’s. “At least Red Coat is willing to talk to us,” she added after a moment, peering at him once more around Bucky’s shoulder.

“I am,” he said. Bucky tensed at the remark, and Red Coat raised his hands in surrender. “I mean it. There is nothing I want more than to continue this conversation right now.”

Bucky eyed him a moment before responding. “Why?”

“Meredith Quill was my mother.”

Darcy inhaled sharply, but Bucky stood firm against the revelation. “ _You_ might want to talk, but they—”

“Oh my god.”

Bucky stopped at Darcy’s quiet gasp. She stared at Quill, and as she did, the man before her merged with a dusky picture she’d seen hanging in her parent’s house throughout her childhood, the one of her aunt, the one who had died before Darcy was born, and a young boy, her son, a towheaded scamp who grinned cheekily at the camera.

Her cousin Peter Quill, who disappeared the day his mother died.

“Holy shit,” she said now. “You’re still alive.”

The man— Peter— frowned. “What?”

“You’re Peter Quill, aren’t you? You disappeared… Jesus, almost twenty-five years ago. My—”

Bucky raised his hand again. “Don’t.”

“Wait!” Quill cried, rushing forward. He skidded to a halt as Bucky fisted his hands. The two green people reached for their weapons, and Rocket did the same, but Quill held up his hands, his, unlike Bucky’s, directed towards his companions. “Please,” he said. “ _Please_. I don’t want to hurt either of you.” 

Bucky tilted his head at the man’s companions. “The other three do. Maybe the tree too.”

“I am Groot,” the tree said, prompting Rocket to roll his eyes.

“Of course you don’t. You probably want to braid flowers into their hair and catch star bugs in glass jars with them, right?”

The tree nodded. Rocket sighed, but Darcy sensed fondness underlying his scorn.

“Fine,” Bucky said. “The tree doesn’t. But the others do.” 

Quill shook his head. “No, they don’t.” He turned to his companions then, eyeing each of them in turn. “You don’t want to hurt anyone, right? _Right_?” he asked again when no one responded. “Not when we’re within spitting distance of Nova Prime.”

The last, whatever that meant, finally garnered a response. The woman lowered her hand from her weapon, shooting Quill— Peter, if Darcy was correct— a quick nod as she did. Rocket gave Peter a long, measured stare but then his gaze flicked over to the buildings in the distance, the city she supposed, maybe what Peter referred to as Nova Prime, and he too released his weapon. Only the green man remained in place, his hand on his gun and his eyes on Bucky.

“Drax,” Peter said. “Remember your vow. You can’t kill Thanos if you’re back in jail.”

“We cannot kill him if we run away, yet that is what your worthless curse intended.”

At that, Peter closed his eyes. He clenched his jaw and breathed in deep. Darcy sympathized with his frustration, having shared many frustrating exchanges with the Avengers. Particularly with Tony.

“One,” Peter said, his jaw still tight, “it’s not a curse. It’s a spell. A… magic spell. And two,” he added as he opened his eyes, “it worked. Kind of.” He waved a hand at Darcy and Bucky. “They wouldn’t be here if it was completely worthless.”

“No,” Rocket said without looking up, “they’re only here because _you’re_ completely worthless.”

Peter pressed his lips together a long moment before he turned to the woman and said, “Can I—”

“No.”

“But—”

The woman said nothing. She merely looked at Peter and arched a brow.

Peter stared at her a moment before he sighed and shook his head. He sounded utterly exhausted when he spoke again. “Drax, don’t kill them. Okay? I think— I think they’re my family.” He looked at Darcy then, and the hope in his eyes pricked her hard. “Aunt Darlene?”

Darcy shook her head. “Darlene Quill’s my mom. Or technically Darlene Lewis is.”

Peter frowned at her, his gaze fuzzy with memory. “That skinny dude. The nerd.”

“Yep. I’m Darcy. Darlene and the nerd’s daughter.” She pulled out her phone and keyed in her code, thankful to Stark and his crazy tech for continuing to work in outer space. Bringing up her pictures, she searched until she found the old one she’d scanned in of her and her grandfather. “See,” she said, holding the phone above Bucky’s shoulder. “That’s me and my grandpa. _Our_ grandpa, I guess.”

Peter stared at the phone like a starving man inches from a buffet.

Darcy tried a third time to step around Bucky. When he stopped her again, she poked him in the back of the head and said, “Bucky, you’re one of my best friends and I love you, but I swear to god, if you don’t let me talk to this man, I will literally kick you in your ass. I don’t care how much it’ll make my foot hurt, I will do it.”

Bucky stayed in place half a minute more before he released a sigh of his own and stepped aside. He didn’t look at Darcy when she moved to stand beside him or when she looked over at him or even when she lifted a hand and laid it on his arm. 

“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft. “I appreciate it.” 

“Just trying to keep you safe,” he muttered, still not quite looking her in the eye.

Darcy felt a smile push at the corners of her mouth. “I know. And if the cranky raccoon or huge tree end up killing me, you can definitely say ‘I told you so.’”

“See,” Peter said, turning now to Rocket. “Raccoon. I wasn’t making it up.”

Rocket said nothing; he just shook his head and continued to mess with his gun.

Darcy moved toward Peter then, her steps slow and her arm outstretched with her phone directed towards her cousin. He reached for her phone, his movements as slow as hers, keenly aware of both Bucky and Drax and the thin ice upon which they stood. He grasped the phone, and when his gaze dropped to the screen, he inhaled sharply. 

The woman took a step toward him, but drew up short at a move from Bucky. “What is it? Is it your grandfather?”

Peter nodded. His hand shook as he stared at the picture, and Darcy thought she saw tears in his eyes. But he clenched his jaw to keep them at bay, and his voice was steady when he said, “He looks different. Older, I mean. Is he…?”

He glanced up at Darcy, his meaning clear. She shook her head. 

“When?”

“Ten years ago. A heart attack.” She paused then said, the words coming out in a rush, “He never stopped looking for you. Even when people told him to. He said your mom tried to tell him, that your dad was an angel, an alien, I guess, but he didn’t believe her when she was alive.”

Peter snorted as he handed her back her phone. “An alien, definitely. But not an angel. Not even close.” 

“Yeah,” Rocket said without looking up. “He’s a giant prick. Just like his—”

“I am _Groot_.”

Rocket rolled his eyes, both at the censure and at the tree that glared at him, but he quieted and returned his attention to his gun. 

As Darcy switched off and pocketed her phone, Peter turned toward Drax and said, “See, she’s family. My cousin. So don’t kill her, okay?”

Drax stayed silent, his eyes shifting from Bucky to consider Darcy. As the seconds passed, Darcy heard the plates move in Bucky’s arm, but thankfully no violence was necessary for Drax gave a curt nod and said, “Fine. I will not murder your cousin, Quill.”

“Thank you.”

“I cannot vouch the same for her robot assassin.”

Peter threw up his hands and turned away. 

Bucky tensed at the robot reference, and Darcy glared at Drax. “He’s not a robot.”

Drax looked back at Bucky, making him tense further. “But he is an assassin.”

“So’s Gamora,” Peter said, pointing at the woman standing beside him. “And you don’t want to murder her.”

Drax glanced first at the woman, at Gamora, and then at Peter. “I do not.” 

“Good. Now—”

“But Gamora is my friend. This metal man is not.” 

Peter shook his head. Darcy saw him lift one hand and pinch the bridge of his nose. This too felt familiar. Apparently it was genetic for her to be the lone sane human in the midst of crazed superpowered beings. Whatever sympathy she felt for Peter and his frustration, though, Rocket did not. He laughed so hard that he nearly fell over. 

Peter lowered his hand to glare at him. “You’re not helping, you know.”

“Why should I?” Rocket asked, shrugging. “No one listens to me anyway.”

The tree turned to Rocket then, and Darcy swore that it looked sad. “I am Groot.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rocket said as he waved a hand. “I know that you do.”

“And so do I,” Peter said. “And so does Gamora. And you never listen to Drax either, so stop acting like you’re all offended by him not listening to you.”

Rocket stared at Peter a moment before narrowing his eyes. 

Before he could say anything though, Gamora steeped between them. “Rocket. Stop.”

Rocket looked at her, and like Groot the talking tree just a moment before, Darcy swore that she saw a flash of pain cross his face. “But—”

“No,” Gamora said, and the steeliness in her voice reminded Darcy of Natasha by way of Steve. “This isn’t helping us against Thanos. What’s done is done. Now we have to figure out our next move. So nobody is killing anybody. Got it?”

Rather than respond, Rocket rolled his eyes. He kneeled down to mess with his gun, muttering invectives at everyone but making no move against Bucky or Darcy. Drax just gave Gamora a second short nod before he shifted his gaze back to Bucky, where it stayed, no less intent but not as murderous as before. Darcy could see the sigh well in Gamora, but she squelched it down to look over at Peter and nod again.

Darcy expected Peter to turn to her then, but his gaze lingered on Gamora. She saw gratitude in his eyes, but also affection, and perhaps even love. Gamora’s expression softened in response, just a shade, just enough to prompt Darcy to glance at Bucky. This, too, must be genetic, Quill kids and the gruff assassins that made their hearts melt. Unfortunately for her, hers didn’t return the affection, at least not past friendship.

“We should get back to the ship,” Gamora said as she looked away. “Determine there what went wrong with the spell. Just in case Thanos tries for the power stone first.”

At the mention of Thanos, Peter’s group went stiff. Darcy glanced over at Bucky. She found him frowning at the group, not in suspicion, but in confusion.

“Who’s Thanos?” he asked quietly. “This is the fourth time you’ve mentioned that name.”

Rocket, Groot, and Drax all looked at Gamora. Gamora, though, looked at Peter. 

“What?” he asked. 

“Tell them.”

Now Peter frowned. “Me? You know him better than I do.”

Gamora pointed at Darcy and Bucky. “They’re your people. You know how best to explain.”

Peter opened his mouth, seemingly to protest, but he didn’t, he snapped it shut instead and turned toward Darcy and Bucky, where he stared at them a moment, considering what to say, then, in true Quill fashion, he explained. 

“Thanos is a huge purple dick who wants to take over the damn galaxy. Or kill everyone in it. Or both. Who the fuck knows. I certainly don’t because I’m not psychotic or purple.” 

Gamora sighed and closed her eyes.

Peter looked over at her. “What? I didn’t lie.”

“No. But you reduced a man who has slaughtered _planets_ to an indecisive part of male anatomy.” Before Peter could respond, she opened her eyes and looked at Darcy and Bucky. Darcy found strength in her gaze, a resilience that brought to mind Natasha and Bucky, but, also like them, the shadows of trauma too. Her voice was subdued when she spoke, hushed but intent, and it made Darcy shiver as much as what she revealed about Thanos. 

“Thanos is psychotic, but he is also driven beyond all comprehension for power. He has devoted his entire life to this, and now he intends to acquire it with the aid of ancient stones. With them, he will have the power that he needs to enslave the universe.”

“Does he have any now?” Bucky asked.

Gamora shook her head. “Not anymore. He had one, a gem that allowed him to control people’s minds, but the man he entrusted it to lost it on Earth, along with much of Thanos’ army. Thanos has attempted for two more, but—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Darcy said, her prior dread returning. She looked from Gamora to Peter and back again. “The man who went to Earth. The one who lost the mind stone. It wouldn’t happen to have been a huge green dick named Loki by any chance?”

For the first time, Darcy faced the full force of Gamora and her stare. If she weren’t so freaked out by the impending answer and the doom that it promised, she’d be freaked out by its intensity. And by the woman who wielded it. 

“Yes,” Gamora said. “How do you know that name?”

Rather than answer, Darcy closed her eyes. She lifted a hand and scrubbed it over her face. Her thoughts spun as fast as Jane’s when she had too many cups of coffee, the connections clicking together in her brain. Beside her, she heard Bucky move. He shifted in front of her, blocking her from their view. A second later she felt him touch her, the lightest brush of his fingertips against her elbow.

“What is it?”

Darcy opened her eyes and lifted them to meet Bucky’s. His steadfast expression calmed her; his hand on her arm, despite the hesitancy of the gesture, grounded her. Breathing in, she said, “The stone she mentioned. It’s Vision’s.” She gestured toward her forehead before lowering her arm. “That’s the one Loki used to take over Erik and Barton. You know, the aliens in New York—” 

His eyes widened and he gasped. “The Tesseract.”

Darcy nodded. She peered around Bucky to Gamora again. “The other stone things? One of them wouldn’t happen to be a glowy blue one that opens portals, would it?”

Gamora tilted her head to the side, what Darcy took as her gesture of surprise. “Yes.”

Darcy returned her gaze to Bucky, but he twisted around to face Gamora. “You ever come across a man with a red skull out here?”

The intensity in his voice made both Darcy and Gamora frown.

“Yes,” she said. “Long ago. He was the one who originally told Thanos of the stone on Earth.”

The plates in Bucky’s arm shifted as he fisted his metal hand. “He still alive?”

Gamora shook her head. “Thanos killed him when I was a child. The Skull disappointed him one too many times.” 

Bucky sighed at that and his shoulders relaxed a fraction.

At least they did until Peter frowned at him too. “Wait a minute. Red skull? Like _the_ Red Skull? Like Captain America and the Red Skull? _That_ red skull Red Skull?”

Darcy stepped from around Bucky in time to see him glare at Peter. 

“Yes,” he said. “That one.”

The glare failed to register with Peter. Instead, he started to bounce around in glee. “Oh my _god_. This is great. This is awesome. This is fucking _awesome_.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

Darcy darted in front of Bucky, between him and Peter. “It’s okay, dude. Really.” She placed a hand on his arm to draw his attention back toward her. “He’s just a big fan. Seriously, Bucky. All that old Cap and the Commandos stuff I have used to be his.” 

The gasp from Peter prevented Bucky from responding. “You have my stuff?”

Darcy eased around, careful to stay between him and Bucky. “Yeah. Grandpa gave it to me.” She paused a moment to snort, memories of her childhood surfacing. “I think he was trying to wage war against Mom and the Disney horde that she unleashed upon me when I was six. The comics didn’t make much of an impression, but the Bu—”

Darcy snapped her mouth shut before finishing, her brain catching up with her word vomit.

“The what?” Peter asked, stopping his dance long enough to frown at her.

“Nothing. Hey, cousin, did you know that Captain America is, in fact, alive? Because he is and I know him, look, here’s a picture.”

She reached for her phone in an attempt to distract Peter from her near revelation of her beloved Bucky Bear, the one item in Peter’s Commandos collection that had appealed to her. No one at HQ knew her secret, and Darcy intended to keep it that way. Especially from the man himself.

Unlocking her phone, Darcy pulled up the pictures, scrolled, and found the photo she’d taken of herself with Steve just a couple weeks before. At the first glimpse, Peter darted forward to snatch the cell. Reaching blind for Bucky, Darcy grabbed his hand to keep him from launching himself at Peter. 

“Holy _shit_ ,” Peter said as he stared down at the screen, giddy like the nine-year-old she imagined him to be before he’d been taken. “My cousin knows Captain America.” His thumb touched the screen then, Peter attempting to be reverential toward his childhood hero, but all he did was swipe the photos forward.

It was only after he gasped again that Darcy realized the next photo was of Steve and Bucky.

“Oh no,” she said.

“What?” Bucky asked from behind her.

She didn’t get a chance to answer for Peter looked up then, right at Bucky. His eyes darted back to the phone before flitting once more to Bucky, widening with each movement. 

“Darcy. My cousin. My favorite cousin Darcy.”

Darcy lifted her free hand to her face and rubbed at her suddenly sore temple. “Yeah?”

“Is that…? Is he…?” Peter wiggled the phone at her rather than finish, the thought apparently too much to vocalize.

Bucky shifted behind her. “What’s going on?”

“He found the picture of you and Steve in the old timey Commandos shirts.”

“Oh,” Bucky said. Then he paused and processed. “ _Oh_.”

“Right.”

“That is,” Peter said, gawking at Bucky. “Him. Isn’t it? That is him. He is him. Right?”

Before either Bucky or Darcy could answer, Rocket joined the conversation. “What the hell are you blathering about, Quill?”

“Bucky Barnes. Bucky _fucking_ Barnes. The best of all the Kevin Bacons.”

As Rocket frowned at Peter, Darcy glanced back over her shoulder at Bucky. He had his brows raised and his mouth half-open. She bumped her heel against his foot. When he met her gaze, she mouthed _yes or no?_ Bucky peered past her at Peter once more, who was continuing to blather but about Kevin Bacon, and someday Darcy would pester him about how exactly _that_ connected to Bucky. For now, she watched Bucky. After a few seconds, he looked back at her and shrugged, resigning himself to an unfathomable stretch of fanboy excitement.

She turned back around, startling when she found every single member of Peter’s team staring at Bucky avidly.

“Okay. Weird. Er. Weird _er_ , I mean. It was already weird.” The team continued to stare despite her declaration of weirdness. “Anyway,” she said as she gestured vaguely at Bucky. “You were right. This is—”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Peter screeched. “My cousin’s banging Bucky Barnes!”

If Darcy had to identify a verbal equivalent to riding the Bifrost or falling through a portal to the ass end of space, this was it. The proverbial world lurched under her feet, her heart stopped, her breath stilled in her chest. Every cell within her became aware of Bucky standing behind her, of her foot still pressed against his, of their still clasped hands. 

“What,” she squeaked. “No. No, I’m not.”

Peter paused in his celebration long enough to frown at her. “What? Yes, you are.”

Darcy shook her head. She began to sweat.

Peter looked at her a long moment before turning to Bucky, and Darcy couldn’t imagine what he saw on Bucky’s face. She hoped confusion. She feared disgust. She couldn’t bring herself to turn and look, though, so she waited, her heart pounding fast.

“Really?” Peter asked after another moment. His gaze flit between the two of them again as did the phone in his hand. “Because I—”

“Really,” Darcy said before Bucky could answer.

Now Peter narrowed his eyes at her. As did Gamora. And Rocket, who actually looked up from his gun and spoke. 

“Bullshit.”

Darcy released Bucky’s hand to cover her face. “Oh my _god_. This is not happening.”

“Darcy—” Bucky began.

“Something wrong with my cousin, Tin Man? You think you’re too good for her?”

At this, Darcy jerked her hands back down. Both Peter and Drax scowled at Bucky, Peter with a hand by his gun and Drax with his in fists. “Oh my god,” she said. “That is not it. At all.”

“Then what is it?” Rocket asked. 

Darcy turned to him. “We’re friends.”

Rocket propped an elbow on the butt of his gun. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, we are.”

Rocket lifted his chin then and sent Darcy a smug smile. “Then why’d you say you love him?”

The world stopped, both Earth and this one. This one for her and Earth for Bucky as he went rigid behind her. “I didn’t,” she said as she tried to remember how to breathe.

Drax shook his head. “You did. Right before you threatened to inflict harm upon him.”

The world started again as she recalled the moment, her loving threat to Bucky so that she could talk to Peter. Breath leaving her in a relieved rush, she said, “Oh. That. That was just friend love. Not romance. Friends. Because I don’t…” Darcy paused and swallowed hard. “I don’t love him. Not like _that_. Not that I wouldn’t,” she added quickly as she turned to face Bucky, panic setting in at the prospect of him misinterpreting, of him thinking she didn’t love him because he wasn’t worthy of love. “You’re great,” she said. “Wonderful even. I just— I meant…” The intensity of his stare made her flounder. “I’m your _friend_ , so you don’t have to worry. I wouldn’t…” 

Bucky tilted his head to the side. His brows drew together. Darcy closed her eyes and tried once more to remember how to breathe. She heard nothing save the distant hum of civilization and the passing breeze, but she felt everyone staring at her, Bucky most intently of all. Then the sound of cracking firewood made her open her eyes and look back over her shoulder. She saw the talking tree lumber towards she and Bucky, one arm extended. 

“I _am_ Groot.”

“Uh…”

It— He— Groot— moved past Darcy toward Bucky. She spotted a pale yellow flower at the tip of one branch of his extended arm. “I am Groot,” he said again, offering the flower to Bucky. 

Bucky stared at the flower, as frozen as Darcy.

Groot moved for him, plucking the flower from his own branch and placing it in Bucky’s metal hand. Then he pointed to Darcy and said, “I am _Groot_.”

Of all the options Darcy anticipated to follow this, the least likely one occurred. Because Bucky looked at the flower in his hand, stared at it a long moment, and then blushed. Red colored the back of his neck, the tip of one ear visible through his hair. She knew she shouldn’t stare, Bucky hating it when people gawked at him, but she couldn’t stop herself, this the latest in the series of unbelievable twists to the day. And the incredulity only grew as Darcy gawked. Because Bucky licked his lips and breathed in. He reached out and plucked the flower from the palm of his hand. And then, exhaling, he straightened his shoulders and turned toward her. 

“Oh my god.”

“Told you,” Rocket said. “I fucking told you. Didn’t I? You—”

He yelped as Groot leaned over to shove leaves into his mouth. Peter snickered at the sight, but Darcy just stared, silent, both at Bucky and the flower in his hand.

“Here,” he said as he thrust it toward her.

Darcy blinked at it and then at him. “Are you… serious?” She continued before he could answer, nerves pushing the words out. “Because I know how you get about dogs. And, yeah, Groot’s not a dog, but he’s got some _serious_ sad eyes going on, so you don’t—”

“I know I don’t.” He paused then and his eyes darted past Darcy to the lunatic group assembled behind her. But rather than deter him, whatever he saw emboldened Bucky for he looked back at Darcy and said, “I want to.”

Darcy stared at him again, still thunderstruck, then the reality before her began to process, and she started to smile. “You do?”

Bucky nodded. “I do.”

Darcy saw the beginnings of a smile on his face too, and hers broke out into a broad, dopey grin. Her heart beat fast, and she felt her face warm and her nerves buzz with electricity. She started to reach for the flower in his hand, but the slight frown that appeared between his brows stilled her. Glancing up, she found the clouds swirling, lit from within by a light she knew did not belong to this planet.

Or to any in this dimension.

“What the fuck?” Peter yelled.

“It’s got to be Thanos,” Rocket said 

Darcy heard him charge his gun. “No. It’s not Thanos.” She squinted at the sky, at the clouds that spun into a cylinder, into a path to fling them through the stars and into the gilded Technicolor of her own personal Oz. 

“It’s Thor.”

The Bifrost descended then, preventing any further comment. As it did, Darcy reached for Bucky and clasped his hand. He pulled her in and wrapped his left arm around her as they rose into the air and shot across space and likely time. This ride rocked as hard as her last. Her teeth chattered and her bones shook, but Bucky steadied her, he held her firm.

Seconds later, the Bifrost spat them out. Darcy prided herself for remaining upright this time, her first trip ending with her flat on her ass before Heimdall. She figured she had Bucky to thank for avoiding that particular fate again, his stance solid and secure. Behind her, she heard someone throw up, likely Rocket from the location, and she was just about to turn and commiserate when movement at her right drew her attention.

“Darcy! Are you okay?” 

Turning, she saw Jane rushing toward her. Steve and Thor followed, but they all stopped before reaching the group. Twisting back around, Darcy found Drax at the ready, standing beside Groot who aided a still struggling Rocket. 

Untangling from Bucky, she moved toward them, her hands up in placation. “No, hey, it’s okay. They’re friendly. Family. Friendly family.”

Drax kept his body tense and his eyes on Thor. “Cousin of Quill, what is this place?”

“It’s Asgard. You know, land of Thor. You’re safe now.” She glanced back over her shoulder at Thor. “Right?” 

Thor nodded. He looked from Darcy back to Drax, over to Groot and Rocket, and then to Peter and Gamora. “I am Thor, king of Asgard. Heimdall heard your plight in his search for Darcy. I assure you that you are safe. Thanos will not try his hand here, not when we wield two of the stones he seeks.”

“He will,” Gamora said. “Eventually.” 

Thor held her gaze a moment before nodding. “He will. And we will be ready when he does. But for now, you should rest.” He gestured behind him to the Rainbow Bridge. The intensity of the king began to fade, replaced by a congenial smile. “Please allow me to escort you to the palace. I have ordered accommodations to be readied for you, and once you are refreshed, we will speak.” 

*

The view from the Rainbow Bridge still impressed, though Darcy had seen it multiple times. She doubted there’d be a time when it _didn’t_ impress, but perhaps seeing it day after day for hundreds of years as the Asgardians did kind of dulled the impression. They passed her by without a look at the Bridge itself or the waters rushing beneath or the vast expanse of stars and galaxies above. Darcy, though, lingered, though she knew she needed to return to the palace, the meeting about the day’s activities imminent. But her mind still buzzed from all that had happened, from three planets in a day to a sentient tree and talking raccoon, from her presumed dead, half-alien cousin to Bucky and his declaration of affection.

Darcy glanced at her hand, at the remains of the flower that had been crushed as she rode along the Bifrost. There had been no opportunity to speak with Bucky since they arrived, Darcy swept into conversation by Jane and Bucky by Steve as they made their way to the palace. Her heart sped up at the prospect of speaking to him, of continuing and possibly confirming what had been hinted at before the Bifrost descended. She almost wanted to wait until they returned to Earth, to normal, solid ground, but who knew how long Thor would need to talk to Peter and his friends about Thanos, and she couldn’t well abandon her cousin, not when— 

“I think the tree’ll probably give you a new one.”

Darcy looked up, saw Bucky standing about twenty feet away.

“If you want it,” he added as he moved toward her.

“I… Is this a metaphor?” she asked, tilting her head at Bucky as he drew closer. “Are you Groot in this scenario, or do you literally mean that Groot will give me another flower? Because this day has been really long and _really_ weird, and I can’t process anything more complicated than ‘I am Groot’ right now.”

Bucky stopped beside her, a hint of a smile on his face. “I meant literally. But the other applies too.”

Darcy wanted to smile at the last and almost did, but she squashed it down, trying to play it cool instead. “I don’t know.” She glanced down at the flower in her hand. “I kind of like this one. It’s a little banged up, sure, but that’s the appeal.”

From the corners of her eyes, she saw Bucky cock a brow at her, the hint of a smile still there. “Is this a metaphor? Am I the flower now?”

Darcy tried, but she couldn’t help the smile. “Maybe. If you want it to be.” His face grew serious then, but not unkind. She watched as he pulled in a breath to speak, but the doubt seized hold of her and the babble set in, refusing to let go. “Not that I think you’ve changed your mind. You’re, like, one of the most honest people I know. So I know you wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it. But, you know, when in Rome and all. Or,” she said as she glanced down at the flower, “when by Groot.”

“It’s not when by Groot.”

Darcy peered up at him then, but Bucky wasn’t looking at her. He was staring out at the waters ringing Asgard. His gaze lingered there a moment then his wry smile returned and Bucky lifted a hand to run through his hair.

“What is it?”

Bucky shrugged. His eyes flitted toward her and then away, down to the flower in her hand. “I was… Well, I wanted to say something. On the deck today. About, you know…” He trailed off and lowered his hand. Darcy saw the tips of his ears grow red again, and her smile returned, soft and warm like the feeling inside her. “I was working up to it,” he continued. “Or I was trying to, you know.”

Darcy bit down on her smile and arched a brow at him. “Trying to? We were out there almost an hour before Peter phoned home.”

He gave her a look for the gentle sass. “I know. I was… I don’t know. Nervous, I guess.” Bucky shook his head and looked away. “It sounds dumb, I know.”

“Not dumb. I hadn’t even worked up to the working up to it stage yet. I was still in the quietly pining from afar stage.”

His smile started to return. “You were?”

Darcy nodded. 

Bucky stared at her a moment, his eyes bright, then he eased closer and reached for her hand. “I guess it’s a good thing the portal opened then.”

Darcy nodded again as she clasped his hand. “Yes,” she said. “It is.”

*


End file.
